


Whatever You Need

by wertman25



Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies), Maleficent (Disney Movies) RPF
Genre: F/M, First Time, Love, Sex, Smut, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 17:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21342319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wertman25/pseuds/wertman25
Summary: When their relationship first began, Diaval had told his mistress, "Whatever You Need." And it was only a matter of time before he figured out what that kind of devotion actually meant. SERIES OF MALEFICENT X DIAVAL SHOTS beginning from their first till their devotion to one another.He could feel the energy change around them. It became heavy, almost sticky. His skin had goosebumps, but all he felt was antagonizing heat. His breath turned shallow, his chest dropped into his stomach, and all he could hear was the sound of his heart beating rapidly in his ears.“Whatever I need?” she asked again.“Whatever you need,” he confirmed again, his voice breathless.
Relationships: Diaval & Maleficent (Disney), Diaval/Maleficent (Disney)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 185





	Whatever You Need

* * *

It was just a few weeks since Diaval had devoted himself to Maleficent’s side, but he was already exhausted. It was a hard fact to swallow, that this was his life now. That he was no more than a servant who would be run ragged until his mistress had no further use for him– or perhaps he would die from extreme exhaustion before that happened. Either way, it was somewhat of a dark and depressing outlook on his future– especially when his future was forever entwined with a fairy, like Maleficent. 

The dark fairy seemed to enjoy running him ragged until his wings ached and his mind was numb. Each day she had tasks and demands which he would withhold, simply because she commanded him to do so. He did whatever she asked, no matter the task, no matter the strain, without a complaint– or thanks from his mistress. It didn’t matter, because he, after all, owed her everything. 

Still, even if he did owe her his life– or she practically owned him now– that didn’t mean that although he was exhausted, he wasn’t somewhat grateful as well. He was grateful for the opportunity, he supposed, to do something like this. He was grateful that she had chosen to save him from death. He was grateful that she had welcomed him as nearly an equal to herself, unlike most of the common Moor-folk. And he was also grateful for the exhausting tasks because although they were exhausting, they also granted him leave from his mistress’s side– which was something that was very much welcomed. 

Maleficent was…overwhelming, to say the least. It wasn’t just her manner or her self-proclaimed authority, but her presence itself was heavy and dark. It was almost like she brought darkness wherever she stepped, fear to whoever saw her face, and a great melancholy wherever she would go. It was felt by all the Moor-folk, and even the humans of the neighboring kingdom; like King Stefan’s castle, where the people still whispered the fear of her name, but no one felt it like her newest righthand. 

Diaval, who was practically the only being allowed within close distance of the Moors’ queen, was suffocated by it. He wouldn’t deny that his mistress was beautiful too. She was beyond beautiful…the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, but behind her beauty and untamed power, he found her to be cold, cruel, and even unremorseful. It was exhausting, and it was a weight that he didn’t enjoy on his feathered shoulders. Each day he looked for some form of kindness from the fairy, some glimmer of hope, but each day was met with a cold shoulder and an icy glare. Still…he kept searching.

He kept searching like he kept searching the castle, but unfortunately, snooping at King Stefan’s castle was the only place he seemed to have any luck. So, Diaval flew back to the Moors with the same thoughts on his mind and the same goals in place. He found his mistress sitting on her throne of blackened roots, looking as dark and depressing as ever. She looked up to him as he flew down to her and before his feet even hit the ground, his bird body transformed into that of a man. 

He hit the ground harder than he would have liked and stumbled forward. He caught himself on a nearby tree, but the pain of the rough landing burned through his body like dozens of lightning bolts. He sucked in a painful breath of air as he pushed himself into a standing position before her.

“Couldn’t you wait till I’m on the ground first,” he said, a bit too harshly.

She ignored his outburst. Her eyes moved up and down his form, but her face gave no clue to what she was thinking. After a moment, she settled back into her throne, satisfied or simply no longer interested in whatever it was she was looking for. “Do you have news for me?” she asked, her voice laced with authority. 

“Nothing of any significance, mistress,” he said. “Just some…activity.”

The remaining light within her eyes evaporated and a scowl overtook her delicate features. “Activity?” she pressed. “What sort of activity? What did you see?”

Diaval shuffled from one foot to the other, his nerves suddenly rattled. “Well, King Stefan and Queen Leila have left for Vitroppe on a…holiday, of sorts.”

His mistress’s eyes grew even harder as his words hit her ears, a dark thought developing in her mind and causing the atmosphere around them to suddenly grow cold. She looked to the ground, her face curling inwards like a snarling dog and her grip on her staff tightened until her pale knuckles were nearly transparent. 

“You mean honeymoon,” she spat. 

It was a statement, not a question. Her words were ice and they chilled him to his very bone. He fought the urge to shiver. “Yes, mistress,” Diaval replied, before looking away awkwardly and pretending to brush some dirt from his sleeves. “They…uh, plan on consummating…the union.”

The quietness after the confession surprised him. He had expected another harsh reaction¬ perhaps rocks in the air, tree roots bursting from the ground, or more or less just an eruption of the color green; but his mistress remained silent, which Diaval found equally terrified. He counted to ten before looking at his mistress again and when he hazarded a look, he was surprised to see that all malevolent features had disappeared and her face somewhat neutral. Her eyes were on the ground and her lips were pressed into a thin line. She hardly looked like herself.

“Mistress?” he asked, taking a step forward, somewhat concerned. 

She didn’t look at him, but by her body language, he knew that she was aware of his worries. “That will be all,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically feeble before she stood from her throne and lifted her finger at him. 

Immediately, he felt his body shift back into his beloved raven form and was forced to remain quiet as she stalked by him. He quickly darted out of her way and flapped higher into the air. A few Moor-folk scattered as she approached the clearing and Diaval watched as she disappeared into the thick landscape.

He wanted to follow her, but he fought against the urge, instead, he simply took his place on the corner of her throne. It was strange to him, the foreign feeling that washed over him and he certainly couldn’t explain it. Ravens were simple, but all this changing between human and bird had his brain fried. The new range of thinking, emotions, and instincts that had been unleashed because of his newly discovered species was simply insane and he wasn’t sure that he liked it. 

He sat alone for a while, trying to busy himself with his “ravenly” things, but each time found himself back by the throne waiting for his mistress’s return. His feet tingled with the sense of anxiousness and his little heart was beating in his ears. Why was it that he thought all day about being away from her and now that he truly was, he just wanted to be back by her side? He couldn’t explain it, but something just didn’t feel right. His eyes remained on the spot where she had disappeared, waiting and hoping for her to return at any second, but no matter how long he waited, she didn’t appear. 

He watched as the sun began to set and as the light disappeared over the tips of the mountains, Diaval realized that he couldn’t wait anymore. Night had nearly fallen and she had not returned– and she always returned by now. Waving his wings, he took to the sky, flying in the direction that she had disappeared hours beforehand. 

Usually, he would follow a path of destruction to find his mistress, but this time was unable to find one. It was almost as if she simply disappeared into thin air, which he was sure with her power, was a possibility. He came to sit upon a branch of an old oak tree, and called out to her, hoping that she would answer. His voice carried throughout the enchanted forest and echoed back at him. He listened intently, but she didn’t answer his call. His plan, however, worked differently as he immediately took notice of a set of fairies that peaked their heads out from underneath a set of mushrooms to gawk at him. 

Diaval knew most creatures of the Moors seemed to avoid Maleficent so he figured that that had to be a good sign. She had to be close if the fairies were hiding. He took the sky once more, traveling between the trees and scanning the ground for her. Once again it seemed impossible to find her until he watched as a fallen tree began to rise from the ground. Its roots, which had been pulled from the earth, began to weave itself back into the mud and as they did, the tip of the tree began to touch the sky. 

He knew he had found her and he swept down towards the ground, careful not to be hit by the flying timber. Diaval spotted her on the other side of the rising tree and came to sit on the lowest branch he could find beside her. He watched as her fingers moved with grace, sweet yellow-tinted magic forming from her tips, and bringing the tree back to life. When the tree was all but back to normal, she lowered her hands and scanned her work. 

Diaval couldn’t take his eyes off of her, his interest and curiosity peaked. Once again, he found himself asking the same questions that had been on his mind since entering her service: Who was this woman? Who was this fairy whom all others feared? Who was this fairy that had isolated herself? Who was this fairy who had lost her wings? 

As he looked around, he noticed that his mistress had resurrected nearly every fallen tree in the east part of the forest. It was a pure contrast to the fairy he had seen weeks ago, who had darkened the Moors and decimated a complete stonewall simply because she wanted to. It was fascinating to him, a true mystery: Who was Maleficent? 

Leaving his thoughts behind, Diaval jumped down from the branch and glided down to her side. “Awk!” he called up to her, flailing his wings as he jumped up and down in place to get her attention. “Awk! Awk!” 

Upon hearing his voice, she looked to the ground and frowned. “What?” she snapped at him. 

“Awk! Awk!” he continued, jumping up and down until she got the idea that he was requesting to be changed into a man– or until he annoyed her into doing so. “Awk! Awk!” 

She rolled her eyes and waved her hand. “Into a man,” she said, the magic bursting from her fingers and into his body.

Diaval shifted from bird to man beside her, but she paid him no true attention and turned back to her work. As usual, the transforming between species sent a rush to his head¬ the slow and strange process becoming quicker each time, but still just as foreign. He took a deep breath and adjusted the black garments over his body, then followed her to the next tree and waited patiently as she continued her work. 

She reached her hand out, touched the bark of an injured tree, and Diaval watched as more light materialized at her fingertips. The tree's bark grew back upon her request and the plant regained its former strength. “What do you want?” she asked, as the tree’s bark finished growing.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay, mistress,” he replied honestly. 

She pulled her hand away and inspected her work like before. “And why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Diaval shifted on his feet again. “Well,” he replied, somewhat unsure of himself. “It was late and you hadn’t returned.”

“I hadn’t realized I had to discuss with you my every move,” she mused, reaching up and touching the branches of another tree. Almost instantly, green leaves began to sprout from its limbs.

“You don’t, mistress…” his voice trailed off, his eyes searching for any hint to the reason behind her odd behavior. He couldn’t find one– at least an obvious one. Although acting somewhat out of character, she seemed just as closed off and distant as usual. “It’s just,” Diaval said, weighing his options, but unable to help himself. “Are you alright, mistress?”  


Her fingers brushed against the newly formed leaves before her hand fell back down to her side and she turned to face him. He had gotten her attention, but besides that, he wasn’t sure what else. She frowned at him, but gave nothing away; her eyes filled with secrets that he couldn’t understand or decode. 

“Your kindness is a weakness, Diaval,” she said, pushing past him and moving towards another downed tree. 

He followed her, unable to think of anything else to do besides stay by her side. “That may be true, “ he replied, “but as a simple raven, I can’t very much offer anything else– besides my wings, I suppose.”

She released a small, humorless chuckle before she turned away from him and began to focus on her work. Another moment of silence passed over them as she cared for and healed the damaged trees, but Diaval found it was impossible to contain himself. 

“It’s just that,” he said, breaking the silence. “It seems like this news may have affected you differently than… before.”

Maleficent laughed, but it was laugh void of joy. She turned to Diaval, her stance stern and nearly hostile. “And why would I care about what King Stefan does with his time?” she said, but her voice was guarded.

“Because he took your wings,” Diaval answered flatly, causing her masked face to shatter for a singular moment. He took the second to think his thoughts through and couldn’t help but to frown as he continued, “Why did he take your wings, mistress? I mean besides to be king. Obviously, there’s a deeper connection, correct?”

“That’s enough,” she snapped, causing Diaval to go silent as his obedience outweighed his curiosity. She took a deep breath and it was easy to see how irritated she had become upon the mention of the subject. “I care not was King Stefan does with his time,” she said, more confident, but nevertheless still not convincing Diaval of the fact. “He can mate with whoever he chooses. That particular choice does not affect me.”

“Right,” Diaval agreed. “Of course not.”

His mistress glared at him unimpressed but allowed his sarcastic comments to pass without argument. She instead, turned her attention away from him and began to inspect the rest of the forest for more perennial plant patients. It was her way to say that the conversation was over, but Diaval didn’t want the subject to be passed over so easily. 

“Even if it doesn’t affect you,” he said, his voice laced with true compassion. “Is there anything I can do, mistress?”

“Yes,” she snapped. “Stop bothering me.” She took a step away from him and raised her hand in a familiar motion that he was beginning to know all too well. He closed his eyes and waited to return to his raven form…but was stunned when it never came. He peeked through his closed eyes and watched as she ever so slowly turned to him, a small curious frown on her face that somehow made it onto his face as well. “Are you devoted to me, Diaval?”

Diaval was surprised by the sudden change of heart, but even more surprised by her sudden questioning. It seemed like a strange question– a random question. “Have I done something wrong, mistress?” Diaval asked. “Forgive me, I did not mean to offend you.”

She waved her hand, dismissing the fact. “I care not for that,” she replied. “But I do want to know how devoted you are to me.”

Diaval nodded, squaring his shoulders and rising to his full height. “I told you,” he replied. “Whatever you need.”

His mistress took in his words but hardly reacted. It was almost a sense of déjà vu as she stood before him, eyeing him up and down as she had during their first meeting. He wished more than anything that he could know what she was thinking, but he could only wonder and wait as her hard gaze burned into him.

Eventually, her gaze broke away from him and she looked towards the opposite direction of the forest. “Come with me,” she commanded as she passed him by and Diaval followed behind her obediently. 

They made their way through the forest and he did his best to match her pace. He hated to be in this form; this bare, wingless, human form. He wanted his black feathers and large wings. He wanted to soar beside her instead of walking on the ground below. He wanted to be able to see within the darkness with his far superior raven vision, but he kept his mouth shut. Diaval wasn’t sure what was about to occur, but he thought maybe he had pushed his limits too far, and he didn’t want to press her any farther. 

They walked for what seemed like forever; until they reached the base of her tree– a large oak, which sat away from all the others. Diaval was surprised that she had brought them there and was even more surprised when she held out her staff and the branches reached down to form stairs– to which she looked back and whispered, “Come.”

Diaval hesitated, but only for a moment. He wanted to ask her for his wings but knew better. His mistress had never invited him into her tree before and the reasoning behind her demand still had him quite baffled. He took a deep breath and followed his mistress up the vine staircase, moving slightly quicker than he needed, afraid to fall as the vines undid themselves at his feet. 

The vine stairs completely dematerialized as the two reached the center of the old oak, where a large nest was built. It was the neatest fairy nest that he had ever seen and also the largest. He doubted that his mistress hardly filled its entirety, but he figured that at one time, her wings took up most of the space. It brought sadness to his heart, but the sadness was short-lived.

Ever so slowly, she turned to face him and Diaval made sure to hide whatever thoughts of pity that were echoing within his mind. Her eyes bore into him, nearly burning his featherless skin, and as he met her hard gaze, he realized that she was void of any and all emotions once more. She took a step towards him and for some reason, he took a step backward. They did this until she had corralled him to the center of the nest. 

He could feel the energy change around them. It became heavy, almost sticky. His skin had goosebumps, but all he felt was antagonizing heat. His breath turned shallow, his chest dropped into his stomach, and all he could hear was the sound of his heart beating rapidly in his ears. He watched her, his pupils wide, and she met his gaze, without hesitation.

“Whatever I need?” she asked again.

He didn’t understand what he was feeling. He didn’t understand what was happening, but he looked down at her and nodded. “Whatever you need,” he confirmed again, his voice breathless. 

A moment of silence passed over them, their eyes locked, but their bodies unmoving. His eyes widened when he felt the touch– not her physical touch, but the warm sensation of magic upon his skin. It was like a shock wave and he couldn’t help but squeeze his eyes shut and breath out roughly, his head falling backward. He felt her push him back and he was helpless but to listen to her demands. 

He laid down on his back upon the large nest as another overload of sensation filled his entire body. It was strange and new and overwhelming, his brain trying to make sense of the strain of information. When he opened his eyes, his mistress stared down at him as she kneeled next to him. Her eyes watched him for a moment before they trailed down his body. 

Her gaze was nearly tangible upon his skin, and his body reacted joyously as if it was her physical touch. Then she reached out and grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt, untucking it from around his waist and making his whole world stop. It was like the whole scene was unraveling before his eyes in slow motion and he was sure he’d wake up at any moment. Diaval could count the number of times he’d been scared in his life, like when he had been caught in a trap and almost bitten by the savage dog. He had been scared then, but nothing could have prepared him for the terror that he felt now. 

Her hands moved to his slacks next, undoing the intricately tied laces. His hands were dead weight at his sides, unable to move as she worked over him. His eyes closed tightly when he felt himself spring free from the confinements he didn’t realize was there, and he practically moaned just from the contact. The human body was strange to him and although the basic concept should have been the same, somehow this seemed like so much more. 

He wasn’t sure what to think, from his reaction or the situation itself, but when he opened his eyes and saw her inspecting him, for the first time, he felt very much naked under her gaze. It was a very human thought, he realized, and a feeling he’d never felt before. He knew his body was nothing she hadn’t seen before, and his human body was one that she had created, after all, but that didn’t change the fact that something had simply changed within him. Once again, he couldn’t explain it, but the feelings overpowered him. 

As if she knew what he was thinking, another sense of warmness washed over him, making his body shake and making for a needed distraction for her to make her move. Hiking up the front of her dress, she moved to straddle Diaval, quickly dropping the garment once she was in place to hide everything from his view. 

When Diaval realized what was happening, his eyes couldn’t look anywhere but in her direction. While his mistress, however, looked anywhere, but into his eyes, and for some reason, it caused a sharp pain within his chest. She rose onto her knees for a moment, them both breathing hard, before she lowered herself into a place of no return. He squeezed his eyes shut when he felt his harden body touch her core and breathed out a harsh breath waiting for what was about to occur. 

They both moaned loudly as her body dropped onto his and his body completely entered into her own. She waited a few seconds, her body adjusting to him before she began to move above him. Her hips moved like a wave against him and Diaval was sure that he never felt anything more wonderful in his whole life. 

Unable to help himself, his head fell back into the nest, his harsh breath mixing with his mistress’s rough pants. As she moved, all of the new senses overwhelmed his brain, but he didn’t want to think¬ he wanted to feel and if, by some miracle, instincts screamed over his overload of thoughts. 

His hands grabbed onto her hips, an instinctual reaction, but one that stopped her movements all too suddenly. As quickly as he had placed his hands on her hips, she pushed them away. Her smaller hands grabbing onto his larger ones, and shoving them towards the ground. She continued her movements once his touch was gone and Diaval was forced to grab at the ground, fighting every urge to touch her. His hands caught onto the edge of her dress, and he held onto it tight. He wasn’t sure whether she didn’t notice or simply allowed him to do so, but he didn’t care, because he knew it was the closest thing to touching her. 

He watched in fascination and pure bliss as the woman on top of him unraveled, biting tightly into her bottom lip and arching her back, as her head fell backward. Her brown hair fell like a waterfall around her horns and cascaded down her shoulders. It was too much, the beauty of her, the feeling of her quivering around him. She was breaking right before him, and he felt as her body began to drain unable to do the act by herself anymore.

He was almost too happy to fulfill his mistress’s unspoken need. A moan escaped her lips as Diaval’s thrusts met her hips, her body relaxing and allowing him to do the second half of the work. He nearly smiled when she placed her hand upon his shoulder to steady herself. His own need seeming to evaporate as he watched the woman above him and focused on her needs. They both panted heavily as their bodies were brought together, Diaval’s movements becoming faster and faster. She erupted around him with a beautiful moan that caused his spirits to soar and he followed nearly immediately after.

She nearly collapsed on top of him but caught herself upon his chest. Both of her elbows dug into his ribs, but he could hardly feel the pressure in his state of bliss. He welcomed it, simply because he knew that his mistress would never allow such closeness and she probably never would again once she regained her strength. Her body quivered around him, as did his own, and he fought against the feeling of his member still inside of her. 

Instead, he focused on her closeness which he was sure to be short-lived. Not only could he feel what he could not see below his waist, but he could feel such sweeter things as well. He could feel her warm breath on his chest as she tried to fill her lungs with needed oxygen. He could feel her long hair draping down against his skin and the ghostly feeling of her horns near his head. He felt her fingers, resting against his bare chest and the slight quivers as the aftershocks of their deeds released themselves from her body. 

His own body quivered beneath her and he tried to calm his breathing as well as his heartbeat. He closed his eyes for a short minute but found himself missing the very sight of her. When he opened his eyes, it was like he opened the channel back to his brain and the overwhelming feeling of confusion rushed its way back in. He didn’t know what had just occurred or even why, but he found himself wanting more. He wanted to do it again, and again, but he also found himself wanting more… like to hold her…to kiss her…to touch her. Things that a raven wasn’t supposed to want– but he figured this was something that was never supposed to happen too.

Without warning, his mistress rose away from him, them both sighing as their bodies separated before she created space between them. She caught her breath as she pushed herself into a sitting position and fixed her hair that had become slightly tousled. He watched her every move, while her eyes never spared him a look. When he caught his breath, he sat up as well and began to re-lace his slacks as she fixed her dress. 

When it was finished, they sat in strained silence for a long while, the only sound was that of their breathing which seemed like shameful whispers within the night. Diaval tried his best to form back into his role as nothing more but her loyal servant, but found himself once again unable to look anywhere but at her. She was quiet, lost in her thoughts, her gaze cast away from him. 

“Mistress…” he whispered, unsure of what to say, but having the irresistible urge to say something. 

But she never gave him the chance. She turned away from him, raising her hand, and flicking her fingers. “Into a bird…” she said, and before he could contest, his human body formed back into a that of a raven.

It twisted Diaval from the inside out, still unsure what to make of all of it. He looked down at himself and had never had been so disappointed to be back to his beautiful feathered self. He loved his natural form. He loved his black feathers and large wings. He loved to glide through the sky without care. He loved being a raven…until this very moment. Now, he wanted his bare body, gangly limbs, and odd feet. He wanted to talk to her, to comfort her, and everything in between…but he knew that she didn’t want that. 

She wanted him gone and he wanted to give her what she desired, but even in his raven form, he found that his feet wouldn’t move. He could just stare at her, wondering, yearning; until she eventually turned to face him. She glared at him as if nothing had just happened between them. 

“Awk…” he said, sounding more like a chicken than a raven, his voice, even in bird form, catching in his throat.

She watched him for a moment before her glare softened, not entirely revealing her emotions, but at the very least not focusing all negative towards him. “That will be all,” she said, giving her command for him to depart. 

This time, he did as she asked, bowing his head to her before taking to the skies. He didn’t dare look back as he left, knowing that if he did, he may never find the strength to leave. His new nest wasn’t far from her tree, but he found himself needing to fly off some excess energy and nerves. The brisk air of the night swept through his feathers, a usually calming effect that simply reminded him of her fingers against her skin. The entire flight, he was unable to get her off her mind.

It was almost morning when he finally returned home to his nest, making himself comfortable for at least some sleep before she commanded him to do who knew what tomorrow– And his body hoped for the better option, although he highly doubted it. Still, as he drifted off to sleep, he wondered if they, like the King and Queen, had consummated something too.

* * *


End file.
